Sacred Stone

drivers walked out, pulled the winch cables from the rear of the cabs of the trucks and started to winch the containers into place. Once they were secured, Hickman climbed into the passenger side of the lead truck and motioned for the driver to pull out.

HALPERT AND HORNSBY watched the exodus from their hiding spot. They snapped as many photographs as they could with their infrared cameras, but there was little else they could do. They watched as the trucks pulled from the docks one by one with the doors open to the weather.

The snow had turned to rain and the tires of the trucks splashed through the parking lot as they drove from the rear to the front of the building, then headed up the road leading away from the mill.

“Tom,” Halpert said quickly, “do not try to enter the building; the men that just left were wearing gas masks.”

“I understand,” Reyes said.

“I’m going to call the Oregon,” Halpert said, “and ask what to do.”

AS SOON AS he hung up after talking with Fleming, Cabrillo phoned Hanley to report what he had learned.

“I’ll have Stone start looking into it immediately,” Hanley said.

“Maybe Hickman is not planning to destroy the meteorite at all,” Cabrillo said, “but do something else entirely.”

Just at that instant Halpert radioed. “Hold on,” Hanley said to Halpert, “I’ll put you on a three-way with Mr. Cabrillo.”

Once they could all hear one another, Halpert explained what had happened.

“ARE YOU READING the locator signals from the trucks?” Cabrillo asked Hanley.

Hanley glanced over at the screen Stone was pointing at. Three moving dots were illuminated. “We have them,” he said, “but there’s another problem.”

“What’s that?” Cabrillo asked quickly.

“We lost the signal from the meteorite a few minutes ago.”

“Damn,” Cabrillo said loudly.

The line was silent for a moment as Cabrillo thought. “Here’s what we are going to do,” he said after the pause. “I’m sending Adams and Truitt back to the ship in the Robinson for chemical exposure suits—Michael, you and the others wait until they arrive.”

“Okay, boss,” Halpert said.

“Jonesy and I will stay here in the Range Rover,” Cabrillo continued. “As soon as the trucks have a definite direction selected, we’ll try to intercept them. Has the other team reached Heathrow yet?”

“They just met up with Gunderson and Pilston at the Gulfstream in the last five minutes,” Hanley said.

“Good,” Cabrillo said. “Make sure Tiny keeps the plane warm—they may need to move at any second.”

“I understand,” Hanley said.

“Have Nixon prepare the suits,” Cabrillo said. “The helicopter will be there in ten minutes.”

“We’ll do it.”

“Now just keep this line open and keep telling me the direction of the trucks,” Cabrillo said.

“Okay,” Hanley said.

Sitting in the Range Rover, Cabrillo put his hand over the telephone. “Dick,” he said, “I need you to fly with Adams to the Oregon and pick up a crate of chemical exposure suits. We think Hickman has introduced some sort of chemical agent into the mill. After you pick up the suits, go directly to Maidenhead— Halpert and three others are waiting there.”

Truitt didn’t ask any questions; he simply opened the door of the Range Rover and raced through the darkness to where Adams had the Robinson idling on the heliport and climbed inside. After he explained the plan to Adams, the helicopter lifted off and started flying toward the Oregon.

“THEY HAVE TURNED onto the main motorway, the M4, that leads into London,” Hanley reported to Cabrillo.

“Mr. Jones,” Cabrillo said, “can you find us the quickest route to the M4?”

“With everyone in central London for the New Year celebrations,” Jones said, “I’d say quick might be a stretch.”

Sliding the Range Rover into gear, he backed up and then headed down the road leading out of Battersea Park. His plan was to cross the Battersea Bridge and take Old Brompton Road over to West Cromwell to the A4, which led to the M4. Even at this late hour the going would be slow.

HICKMAN AND THE trio of trucks had it easier. They drove through Maidenhead on the Castle Hill Road, which was also the A4, then turned onto A308, which led directly to the M4. Fourteen minutes after leaving Maidenhead Mill they were approaching exit number 4 to Heathrow Airport.

AT THE SAME instant the trucks were slowing to exit the M4, Truitt and Adams touched down on the rear deck of the Oregon. Nixon was waiting with a wooden crate containing the chemical suits and he raced out, opened the rear door, and stowed them across the rear seats while Adams kept the rotor turning. After closing the rear door, Nixon opened the front door and handed Truitt a printed sheet with directions to make sure the suits were airtight, then secured the front door and backed away.

Once clear, he gave Adams a thumbs-up sign and the Robinson lifted from the pad.

Within minutes the helicopter was back over London racing in the direction of Maidenhead. The distance was twenty-six miles and their arrival time was twelve minutes away.

THE PAIR OF pilots were still in the lounge at Global Air Cargo when the trucks pulled in front of the facility and slid to a stop. The 747 was sitting out front with the nose cone lifted in the air, awaiting loading. The rear ramp was also down to allow easy access. Hickman walked in a side door and found the pilots still watching the television.

“I’m Hal Hickman,” he said, “we brought the priority cargo.”